Demure and Dulcet
by sachi-sama
Summary: "No, we mustn't wish for such things. We're together now, and that's all that matters. We might not have found each other as we have if the world wasn't ending. My dearest Alfred, we are fine as we are, and I am so very…happy to be here with you." UkUsUk, one-shot.


_Okay, okay, so yeah, I have three stories going on at the same time right now, and I probably SHOULD be focusing more on those right now, since I keep getting threatened, but you guys… _

**_I'MSOFUCKINGFULLOFINSPIRATIONRIGHTNOWWWW! _**

_Seriously, it's been so long since I've felt so inspired, and I can't remember the last time my muse was so high. I finally got an off day yesterday, but of course it wasn't enough time. It never is, really, and I have another six days now before I can have another one, but sleeping is out of the question now! Ah, I know, I'm rambling. Sorry, but I hope you like the results of all this! So on with it then!_

**_Disclaimer: _**_This story is based off the movie _Seeking a Friend for the End of the World_, and I don't own it in any way. (Of course I'm tweaking it to pieces for my own sake, but I'm borrowing the whole asteroid theme, so I'll give credit where credit is due.) If you haven't seen it, WATCH IT. Nuff said. Ah, and I don't own the characters. I do own this hat though! Take that, Japan and movie directors! COME AT ME, BRO!_

* * *

_Demure and Dulcet_

"Seriously, Mom, I'm fine! I'm fine!"

Arthur Kirkland briefly looked over his steaming cup of precious Earl's Grey toward the girl with pigtails, which honestly looked too big to be attached to her head. Of course he was a little biased, since people were always telling him that about his eyebrows, and it had a tendency to infuriate him beyond all comprehension when it was brought up, thus making him contemplate all sorts of revenge scenarios, but hey, none of us are perfect. The girl was twiddling idly with one of her _enormous _pigtails in one hand, and holding her almost mint-condition iPhone in the other. Deciding his tea was more inspirational for his liking; he turned back to the tiny cup, and cradled it close.

"I know that. Yeah, they told us too. I loved London! You and Grandpa are just more important right now," she was saying loudly. Arthur hadn't really expected any less with this journey though. He was surrounded by other people, who for once, seemed more desperate than him not to be all alone. Apocalypses sort of have a tendency to do that to people, and suddenly, wherever they are is never good enough. Even he was guilty of that.

"I'll call you when I'm close. I love you too. Buh-bye." The girl sighed exasperatedly as she pushed her finger against the screen to end the call. Arthur wondered how many people these days even remembered the satisfaction of slamming a receiver down after using the telephone. This generation seemed lacking in many things, and he supposed that was just one of the many. He could feel the girl's eyes on him.

"I hope I didn't disturb you, sir," she said. "I just don't know how much longer the phone lines will be up. We were fortunate to even catch the flight though, right? Even if we were in the dark until a few hours ago."

"Mmm," he replied, draining his cup. He looked up to see her smiling at him.

"Looks like we're going to be here a while. These lines are crazy. How did you get that cup of tea?"

"From the little café over there. This line was immobile only an hour ago, so I was able to leave and return quickly. Americans are known for making piss-poor tea, but I'd rather have this imitation than none at all. It's over by the newspaper stands, see? Feel free to venture there, but be warned. There's a rather handsy fellow gallivanting about. I had to push him off once."

"Handsy fellow?" she asked, craning her neck to look over the many heads of people. "I _am_ hungry, but I don't want to lose my place in line… I don't know how much longer these people are going to be pleasant."

"Indeed."

"You sure are well-dressed," she continued, smiling again. "Are you in the cinemas or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm- or used to be, a journalist. I don't suppose anyone is really anything now. We're all a little bunched up here though."

"Yeah… I still don't want to believe this. I keep thinking someone is going to come on the T.V. and tell us it's all some poorly told joke. It's crazy… I'm only nineteen years old and I'm staring death in the face!" she said bitterly. "I know a lot of people didn't even get that long, so I guess I really can't complain too much, but still, it's not fair!"

Arthur gave her a wistful smile, still holding onto his Styrofoam generic airport grade Earl's Grey.

The lines moved slowly, as expected. Going through customs was never easy, but the people were beginning to get anxious. The announcement had been only fifteen hours prior, and everyone had scrambled to buy tickets to leave at once. Arthur had been immensely glad he took the proper precaution to the oncoming disaster, but he was still unfortunate enough to be stuck traveling with everyone else.

There was an asteroid heading toward Earth. It was one of those seventy-mile-wide-mass-murdering sorts of things, and it was likely known that it would eventually reach their planet for years. At least, it was known to the scientists. Preparations were made to destroy the asteroid, almost like something right out of a science-fiction movie. In secret, a small rocket was launched directly toward the beast, and a very small crew was to plant a bomb to destroy it. Sadly, the mission failed, because the asteroid shifted just slightly enough to side-swipe the rocket before it could land, and scrape a hole in the side large enough to create a vacuum. There was a small explosion, killing everyone sent to save the planet, which was now doomed. Not only until after the mission failed was the announcement released. The Earth was going to be destroyed in six more days.

Arthur was already on the airplane when the announcement reached the masses. Being a journalist, he had had a little window of time in which he learned the news firsthand. The paper he worked for was publishing a special about the end of the world, adding their all-time lists of favorite people, top fifty saddest cataclysms beforehand, and even the most influential wars, to name a few key points. One of his managers had pulled him to the side, and informed him of the impending disaster, telling him to do whatever he had to.

_"Because, honestly, Arthur, I don't think I've ever seen you happy. And you truly deserve it more than anyone else I can think of."_

So, Arthur did the only thing he could think of, which oddly enough, was the one thing he was dreading more than anything else in his life. Now it seemed like something he had to accomplish before his time was up. He purchased a first-class ticket to America, hopped the pond, and was now waiting at an airport with more people going than coming. It seemed he wasn't alone in his idea. Many of these Americans, he expected, were trying to travel just for the sake of traveling before they died, or maybe escape a problem or two. Who knows? It didn't bode well for him to experience the crowds. He didn't want to spend his last days waiting in a line to be frisked by an obese woman with fingernails as long as talons.

"I'm going to see my mom," the girl behind him said suddenly. "I was studying abroad and staying in a flat, but she wanted me to come home for the holidays. I can think of a few other ways I'd like to spend my last holiday season, can't you? I wish we could go somewhere exotic and see stuff we've never seen."

"Perhaps seeing what's familiar will be best for you," Arthur offered, tossing his cup into a bin nearby with fluid movements. "It's best to be somewhere happy and safe during such times, surrounded by loved ones."

"I don't think anywhere is going to be safe anymore," the girl said. "Are you going home too?"

"Something like that," he replied, not wanting to share everything with a stranger he'd probably never see again. It was left at that as the line slowly started to move again, but then came to a halt soon after.

"Hey! Fuck this shit, man! I'm trying to spend my last days with my family, not in this trashy-ass airport!" a man toward the back of the line screamed suddenly. His voice was joined with a few others, and before they knew it, Arthur and his newest airport companion were jostled toward the checkpoint.

"Oi! Keep your riots to yourself, if you please! Some of us would like to die with dignity!" an elderly voice sounded out. There were words exchanged by everyone in line, it seemed, and soon the pushing grew more violent. Arthur hissed as he was shoved into the woman in front of him, who turned to give him a death glare.

"My condolences, miss," he said quietly. The girl behind him shifted closer to him, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. She was young, so very young, and alone, much like him. He grabbed her hand and pointed to the corner, motioning for her to keep quiet. Her brown eyes grew wide, but her hand clasped tighter around his, showing she trusted him. He tugged her, and together, they jostled through the people, fighting their way through the sea of people. It was becoming more and more unpleasant as everyone began to beeline toward the door, and the airport staff tried to keep them back.

"Why are they behaving this way?!" the girl cried, holding onto him tightly as they inched along the wall, but still managed to get slammed into every now and then.

"When the world's going to hell, it's shove or be shoved, dear," he said as he pushed someone out of his way. Indeed, it seemed a riot was about to break out. Arthur looked around frantically, trying to spot any sort of escape other than the main entrances. His attention turned to the windows beside them where visitors could sit and watch for incoming airplanes.

"Follow me," he whispered to his companion as he began to inch toward the windows.

"W-What are we going to do?" she asked quietly.

"We're going to break the rules, of course. I'd say it's called for in this sort of situation," Arthur informed her, removing his trench coat to wrap it around his fist. "Now stand back. I'm not certain if this will work."

He slammed his fist into the window as hard as he could, and it shattered much to his satisfaction. Their location was suddenly given much attention as the other people in the airport became aware of the unguarded exit, and began to shove toward them instead of the front. Frantically, Arthur helped the young girl first, and then jumped after her, still tugging her away from the frenzy of ill-fated people. Ahead, there was a cabbie resting against the door of his taxi, whose face was turning whiter and whiter while he watched the oncoming mob.

"Wait!" Arthur cried, running as fast as he could. The cabbie looked uncertain, and began to reach for his keys. "Wait, I said! I only need you to take this one passenger!" The man froze, and then suddenly bolted inside of his taxi. The girl beside him gave a small whimper as he cursed at the cruelty of men, before he realized the cabbie wasn't driving away. He simply stuck his head out the window.

"Hurry the hell up! I'm about to get outta here!"

When they caught up to him, Arthur wrenched the door open and helped the girl inside. She gave him a frantic glance.

"Are you not coming too, Mr. Journalist?" she asked, brown eyes wide. "You have to! Who knows what'll happen if you stay?!"

"I trust you know where you're going," he told her simply, patting the top of the taxi to signal it was safe to drive away. "Be safe, you, and have a merry apocalypse." There was a screech of tires and the smell of burnt rubber as the yellow vehicle sped away, followed by many others without passengers, who only wanted to leave before the mob reached them.

"Thank you!" the girl cried to him, her voice already fading. "My name is Michelle! I am glad to have met you!" Instead of a response, he simply placed his hand in the air and waved her goodbye.

* * *

The pavement was never ending, it seemed. Arthur cursed himself for his gentlemanly ways. He should have snatched that cab when he had the chance, because now finding a vehicle would probably be next to impossible. He was in a city, not a very large one, mind you, but a city nonetheless. The sounds of riots were already breaking out around the masses of brick fortresses, and many stores were being raided for their stock. He walked along the edge of the road, still not certain of a game-plan. This was, after all, an unannounced visit. After he had helped Michelle, he had tried his phone, but found it hopelessly dead. As to be expected, phone lines were finally down.

"Move it, you!" a rough voice screeched, shoving him out of the way as the man chucked a brick into the window of an electronics store. Arthur began to walk faster as more people made their way towards the first man, all with the crazy glint in their eyes.

"Hey, buddy, need a lift?" someone asked. He turned to see a blue Ford Mustang pulled near the pavement, following him slowly. "Well, c'mon, get in!"

Deciding even potential rape to be a better outcome than the potential lynching from the mob behind him, he all but _dove_ into the passenger seat, and was very thrilled when he was jerked by the motion of the car, signaling they were finally leaving the chaos.

Arthur sat up, straightening his collar as he looked up to his savior. The first things he noticed were the pair of sky blue eyes focused on him, shielded behind rectangular framed spectacles. The face they rested on was round, and framed by unruly locks colored a wondrous gold, flecked with light brown.

"You okay, dude?" his savoir asked him, offering a good-natured smile.

"Ah, yes, I can't thank you enough for that. I was afraid I was done for just now," Arthur said in return.

"You would have been!" the man laughed jovially. Arthur flinched as a hand was suddenly stretched in front of him, waiting to be shaken. "I'm Alfred Jones, but you can call me Al, if you'd like. I'm twenty-two, and I like hamburgers. What's your case, bro?"

Arthur gave him an incredulous look, but didn't offer his hand in return. Alfred raised his eyebrows and began to nudge him with his outstretched hand.

"Would you please _stop_ that?!" the Briton screeched suddenly after the third or fourth nudge. "There's no reason to exchange information when we're strangers who probably won't even meet again!"

"All the better reason to get acquainted," the sandy blonde said, still entirely bubbly. "We're all gonna die in a few days. Why die with a bunch of strangers?" Arthur considered this for a moment, before he clasped the hand in front of him.

"I am Arthur Kirkland, and you may call me Arthur, respectively. I shan't tell you my age, and I like scones."

"Aw, no fair not telling your age. If I guess it, you have to tell me!"

"Why on Earth would I agree to that, you idiot?"

"Because I saved your ass. By the way, where are you from? England? Ireland? …Australia?"

"…I do _not_ sound Irish _or_ Australian, you git."

"Ah, you're totally British! I recognized that word from _Harry Potter_!" Alfred cried jovially. He turned his head, his too blue eyes focusing entirely on Arthur. "Damn glad to meet ya, Artie!"

_"Arthur."_

"Yeah, whatever. What brings you here anyway? Do you have family over here?"

"Ah, I'd rather not go into my life story, if you don't mind." Alfred turned to look at him again, this time with curiosity written all over his face.

"And why not? It's not like I'm gonna turn it into a book or major motion picture or something. Hell, who would I even tell? The world's ending, buddy. You might as well pass your legacy on to _someone_."

"Do you know where this address is?" Arthur asked him suddenly, shoving an envelope in front of him to change the subject. The American took it, and alternated between reading the scrawl on the envelope to the road ahead of him.

"Yeah, this is a little across town. Is this where I'm taking you?"

"Yes, please. If you can get me there in one piece, I'd be forever grateful."

"You better already be grateful to me!" Alfred sang. "I'm totally your hero!"

They drove in silence for a few moments, before genuine curiosity took hold of the older man. He looked over to the cheerful youth in the driver's seat, who glanced back at him in return as if sensing the added attention.

"What are your intentions? Where were you going before you rescued me?" Arthur asked the sandy blonde.

"Well, you know how it is. It's not like I have anything holding me here anymore. I was actually gonna just fill up my gas tank and drive as far as I could go. It's not like I have anything better to do. I think I'm just gonna drive until I reach that place where I can watch everything come to an end, and not think of all the things I never got to do." He grinned over at the Briton, who was watching him interestedly. "I guess this sounds crazy to you, huh?"

"No, not at all," Arthur responded. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking you and I just might have a little something in common, my boy."

"Well, I'm honored!" Alfred laughed. "By the way, this is you up here, this big brick house. You want me to wait here while you go knock on the door? This person you came to see might not be home."

"Yes, that's fine, thank you. I'll be right back."

The older man stepped out of the car, already a nervous wreck. Alfred honked the horn and gave him a huge thumbs-up, helping to relieve the tension as he rolled his eyes. He focused on his feet, and was extra careful not to trip over himself. It had been such a dreadfully long time. What excuse was he supposed to come up with? It wasn't as though he could say he was too busy for contact. How long would it have taken him to write a letter? Not even ten bloody minutes. When he reached the top step, and was staring at the large white door, his heart began to beat up into his ears, drowning out all thoughts and comprehension. He _hated_ feeling like this. It was part of the reason he never wanted to visit in the first place.

"Hey, it normally helps for you to actually bang your fist against the door," an annoyingly helpful voice said to his right. Arthur turned to find Alfred standing beside him, and was even more irritated to learn that the youth was an inch or so _taller_ than him.

"I'm well-aware of that! Get back in the car!"

"No way! I'm like, all curious now! Want me to ring the doorbell?" The Briton slapped the American's hand away as it stretched toward the doorbell, and he reached to ring it himself. After a minute or so, and there was no reply, Alfred began to knock on the door.

"Hellloooooooo? Arthur Kirkland is here for you! He came an awfully long way!"

"Shut _up_, would you?!"

"I'm only helping!"

"_Obviously_ no one is home, otherwise your annoying American idiocy would certainly attract them over here!" Arthur hissed, trying the doorknob. Of course it would be locked, what was he thinking?

"Watch it, dude," the sandy blonde said suddenly, and Arthur jumped out of the way in time to see Alfred's foot kick against the door and knock it to the ground in one fell swoop.

"W-Wha…"

"If no one is home, they won't care," the younger man explained. "I mean, it's not like material possessions mean anything anymore. What's the point if their house is intact or not? Hell, I left my apartment unlocked. If some homeless guy wants a roof over his head for a few nights, who am I to deny him? I even left a beer or two."

"How noble of you," Arthur said sarcastically, stepping over the ruined door and into the house. Alfred followed him inside, and ventured upstairs by himself as the older man searched the kitchen for maps or clues.

"Yo, Artie!" the American called suddenly as he ran back down the stairs. "I found a letter on a desk up there! It's an invitation to some cabin. There's a return address." The Briton reached for it, his emerald eyes scanning the letter for details.

"Ah, yes, this must be where she went. This must have been a very recent letter too. I daresay we only just missed her by a day or so…"

Alfred watched him as if waiting for a signal of what to do. The older man glanced at him irritably.

"You don't have to help me anymore. I'm here at the destination I asked you to take me to. I'd say your duty is done."

"Yeah, but you haven't seen who you came to see! Besides, I could use the company, you know? It'd be nice to have someone near, even if it's just a stranger."

Arthur gave him a little nod, and started toward the door. The younger man trailed closely behind, whistling an unknown tune.

"Do you wanna go to that address? It's kinda far, but we can make it in a few days. What do we have to lose, right?"

"Are all Americans this overly helpful?"

"Only the super cool ones."

Sighing to the heavens and cursing his fate, Arthur agreed to the little road trip, deciding he _had _come much too far to just quit. Alfred was right. What did they have to lose? He followed the younger man to the Mustang and stiffened when he heard the distinct sound of cackling behind him.

_"What?"_ he hissed over his shoulder.

"Did you want to drive? 'Cause you're totally going on the wrong side, dude. The passenger door is on the other side." The older man flushed as he traveled around the car.

"Technically, _you're _on the wrong side. In every other country, the passenger side is over there."

Still laughing, Alfred clambered into the driver's seat, started the car, and patted the seat next to him as a signal. Arthur scowled at him, but sat down anyway, closing the door a little harder than he should have.

"You get pissed off super easy, huh?" the younger man grinned, cutting the wheel to turn around.

"I do not! I simply do not like being made into a fool!"

"Well, I mean, you're not from here, so it's not like it should bother you. I'd probably do the same thing if I was visiting your country. Culture shock and…stuff. Whatever they say."

Arthur moodily glared out his window. He watched the passing scenery with interest. It _was_ his first trip to America that he could remember. The last time he had been, he was so young it was almost like it never happened at all.

The trees passed quickly as they picked up speed. Many of them were dead from the cold, but a few were still very much alive- _green _even. Yes, the evergreens were keeping him busy as he observed them, admiring their ability to live through such conditions. For about six more days anyway. Alfred remained quiet as well, eyes focused on the road. Arthur looked over to him, and then sighed as he realized how rude he was being toward someone who was _severely _going out of his way to help him.

"I'm trying to locate my mother," he said. Alfred looked over at him, his expression surprised.

"Your mother?"

"Yes. She and my father divorced when I was a teenager, and I haven't seen her since. It's always been on my to-do list, I suppose. I simply never got around to it. As they say though, there's not time like the present. Especially since that's all we seem to have."

"Why didn't you wanna visit her?"

"She's not my favorite person, I admit," Arthur sighed, folding his hands in his lap. "She cheated on my father, had a few shags here and there. He found out and that's when everything went to hell for them. She left and didn't try to talk to me for years, then one day decided to contact me, thus the letter I showed you. I really don't even know what I'm trying to accomplish by seeing her. It's just…something I always said I was going to do."

"I know how you feel," Alfred informed him. "Everyone is talking about all this cool stuff they're gonna do now that none of it matters anymore. They're hooking up with people, getting drunk, you know, stuff like that. Then a few of my friends even went back to their families, but it's not really like we can all do that. I'm spending my last days living how I always did, haha. Wandering aimlessly."

"Why can't you go home?"

"Well," the sandy blonde began, "for starters, they live all the way across the country, and there's no way I could fly there with the airports as they are now. I couldn't drive that far in six days either. It's sad, I suppose, but it's my fault for wanting to move so far from them."

"You don't get along with your parents?"

"Yeah, we get along great," Alfred said. "But sometimes, you just gotta get out. It wasn't about escaping them. It was about getting out of that town. I always told myself when I got wherever I was trying to go, I would do my best to make something of myself, because if I stayed in that town, I'd rot away into nothing. But here I am, still a nobody, and it's too late to try. It's kinda fitting though, don't you think?" he grinned.

"Fitting how?" Arthur frowned.

"Everyone else tried so hard to better themselves, and they're gonna die all the same. So it really never mattered."

More trees passed by, a jumbled blotch of green and brown. The Briton leaned his head against the window and observed them. His breath fogged up the glass as he replied.

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

* * *

The next time Arthur opened his eyes, everything looked different. There were more buildings around the car, and it was well past daybreak. He frowned. Wasn't it daytime already? Why was the sun rising again? He looked over at the driver, who was hunched over in the seat as he stared at the road in front of him.

"Alfred?" the older man asked groggily, rubbing his eyes. "Where are we?"

"Oh, Sleeping Beauty woke up at last?" the American grinned, turning toward him. Arthur flinched at what he saw. The man looked _exhausted._ "To answer you, I drove all night so we could make better time."

"Then pull over! Bloody hell, I didn't intend for you to kill yourself on my account! I can drive."

"On the wrong side of the road?" Alfred laughed, earning a glare from the other. "Oh, I'm kidding. I was actually thinking we could just keep going till we get to this house or whatever. It's only a couple more hours away. I can sleep there, right?"

"Alfred…"

"I'm fine, I swear! I stayed up much later than this to beat _Call of Duty_, you know. I think I was up for a week straight."

Arthur gave him another skeptical glance, but said nothing else on the subject. So he had slept all night, and it was already daybreak? Five days left then.

"You wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast?" the sandy blonde asked. "We'll still be there before too long."

"Of course. Alfred, you need to be more mindful of your health. If you want to stop, then stop, and if you're hungry, just eat. For God's sake, it's the end of the world. Stop doing what you think I want you to do. I'm only someone you met yesterday."

"True, but you're my Armageddon buddy. That's kind of a bond for life, even if that's only a few days away."

"That's quite possibly the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Yeah, well, that's how I roll."

They stopped at a roadside restaurant, which looked a little…iffy to Arthur. It was a little away from the other buildings, and the parking lot seemed to be little more than a giant dirt pile, with little bits and pieces of gravel.

"Are you even certain the staff will be working today? Shouldn't they be at home with their loved ones?" he asked Alfred, who was moving very sluggishly.

"Pretty sure. Some people are like us, Artie. They don't have anywhere better to be."

The diner was _packed_. Almost every table was full, and the music was blaring on the speakers much louder than necessary.

"Hello, boys!" a woman asked them as she came over. "Come to join the party?"

"Do you have scones?" Arthur asked her ravenously. He hadn't eaten in…actually, he couldn't even remember.

"Rest assured, we have all the muffin you need, darlin'," she smiled at him. He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, yeah, scones and crap. Do you have hamburgers? I'm like, dying," Alfred whined, tugging on her sleeve.

"We have all you need! Come on now, let's get you seated back here." She led them to a booth surrounded by other people. Alfred watched as Arthur shrugged off his expensive-looking trench coat to reveal a nice blue dress shirt with black pin stripes.

"Why are you all dressed to the nines?" he asked the older man.

"I always dress professionally. It's helpful to maintain a serious appearance in order to advance."

"…Does that really matter now? You could just walk around in a sombrero and some boxers, dude. You'll die either way."

"I like how this one thinks!" There was added weight to Alfred's side of the booth as someone sat beside him rather forcefully, making him bounce a little. "He's into the spirit of things!"

A man with startling white hair had made himself comfortable beside the American, a cigar in one hand and a glass of beer in the other. He gave a fierce smile, and Arthur noted the piercing scarlet eyes glinting with mischief.

"Uh… Hi?" Alfred offered good-naturedly.

"Hello, brohan! I was just telling this chick over there, Eliza, that she should think the same way! She's all wearing that stupid sweater, and I'm over here like, 'take it off!', but she won't! Why is everyone so stuffy still when the whole planet is about to fuck us all? IT'S JUST SOME NUDITY, ELIZA! NO ONE CARES!" The man screeched, craning his head to see if the person he was insulting had taken notice.

"You shut the hell up!" A female voice replied, sounding as though it was growing closer. "No one wants to hear your crazy stories, Gilbert!"

She joined them then, and slapped the back of the white haired man's head. She was a very pretty woman with large green eyes and light brown hair, which was pulled back into a bandana. Like the man had said, she was wearing a sweater.

"I don't care if the world is ending!" she said loudly. "It's cold and I'm wearing what I want!"

Arthur grumbled lowly, not liking so much attention around them. He felt something kick him under the table, and glanced up to see Alfred giving him a reassuring smile.

"So, blue eyes, why are you traveling this way, huh?" Gilbert asked, draping an arm around the American.

"We're looking for someone," the sandy blonde replied, pointing to the Englishman. "It's an adventure!"

"It is _not_ an adventure," Arthur said stiffly, eyeing the arm around Alfred's shoulders. "We're driving in a car. That's hardly adventurous."

"Oh, c'mon, Artie. Don't be a stick in the mud."

"Yes, you two should join the fun!" Eliza added. "We've been partying all night! There are all sorts of drinks back there, not to mention…other things."

"Other things?" Alfred asked curiously.

"She means drugs," Gilbert grinned. "I am currently high as _fuck_. I don't even know what I took…a handful of pills, I think. There's no reason not to anymore, right?"

"I would've disagreed already if not for that reason," Eliza replied. "I need to go find Roderich before he has a heart attack." She disappeared in the crowd again.

"Is that your girlfriend?" Alfred asked Gilbert, shrugging the arm off his shoulder. "She's really pretty."'

"Yah, she's all hot and stuff, but not my girlfriend," the man replied dismissively. "She's dating the most stuffy guy ever, and totally has a reason to dump him now, but is staying with him anyway. Women are so stupid."

The waitress came back to take their order as Gilbert drunkenly mumbled some more intelligible things about women in general.

"You guys have drinks, right? I want the girly-est one you have!" Alfred announced. She stared at him, as did the other two occupants at the table.

"You want a girly drink?" she asked.

"Yeah! I never got to drink them before, and I think now is as good a time as any! And I want the works too. The umbrella, the sugar on the glass, all that. Oh, and a hamburger. Rare as hell, everything on it. Please."

"And for you, dear?" she asked Arthur, still looking rather taken aback.

"I'll have the full plated breakfast, I suppose."

"Get a drink too!" Alfred said, kicking him under the table again.

"We have to _drive_, you git. I'd rather not die before I have to, thank you very much."

"Get him a beer, please."

"I said I didn't want-!"

"Make that two," Gilbert said suddenly. "I drank all this one."

She left them to get their order, and Arthur looked over to see Alfred crawl into the booth beside him.

"Your friends will probably wanna sit with you," he said to Gilbert. "I don't wanna be rude." The man waved his hand dismissively.

"It's an awesome time to be rude. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Tell me, why are you all gathered here?" Arthur asked him.

"Where else do we have to go? I'm not into the whole, 'my life is about to be over so I'll go do my bucket list' thing. I'd rather just be surrounded by my friends before I die. That's the main thing with everyone here. We're all going to die together, so we might as well _be _together."

"I feel ya," Alfred said. "I felt the same way, but all my friends left for their hometowns or locked themselves in their houses. I just wanted to _go_. And then I found my Armageddon buddy here!"

"That term will never catch on. I hope you know that," the Englishman said stiffly.

"Welcome to the fray then," Gilbert sighed. "Of course, there _are_ the perks as well."

"Perks?"

Their drinks came first, and Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at the absurd rainbow-looking concoction Alfred received. It did come with an umbrella, and the younger male seemed ecstatic about this fact. The Englishman jokingly snatched it away and held it away from the youth, laughing lightly when he whined and grabbed for it. Both of their attention was drawn to the other side of the booth when they heard a yelp.

"_Bonjour, mon ami!_" Another stranger had journeyed over to sit beside the even more drunken Gilbert. His hair was bright gold, and pulled back into a ponytail. He had stubble on his chin, which he stroked as he observed the pair across from them. "Who are your new friends? They look most _delicious_!"

"Fuck off, Francis," Gilbert hissed. "You too, Antonio."

A new face joined the crowd, this one a handsome man with brown hair and green eyes. He sat on the opposite side, forcing the white haired man to be squeezed in the middle.

"Don't pay any mind to Gilbert here," Antonio said, poking said man in the side. "He always decides he hates us when he's drunk. You are quite the bipolar fuck, mi amigo!"

"Ah, oui, I have noticed this too. You cannot be all up in our faces confessing your love one minute, and then brushing us off the next! I'll begin to feel like you're using me for my body!" Francis added, flailing about in his spot dramatically. He opened his eyes to look over to the two blonde in the other booth.

"Well, we know your names," Alfred grinned. "I'm Alfred, and this is Arthur."

"Charmed," the Englishman muttered, begrudgingly taking a sip of his beer. It was becoming _far_ too crowded for his liking.

"Are you from the UK?" Francis asked him. "Your accent is British, no? I'd be more certain, but you're so quiet!"

"I simply have nothing to say."

"Oui, you are British! I should have known from those eyebrows!" The Frenchman lit a cigarette. Arthur was about to tell him where he could shove it, but was cut off by his American companion.

"I like his eyebrows! They're all prominent and dark. It makes me feel like he has something to hide."

"Mmm, I do, actually. I was exiled to the states because I was a serial killer back at home. I killed everyone with a French accent by making them choke on their own snails and cowardice," Arthur smirked.

"Oooh, you going to take that?" Gilbert asked, nudging Francis in the ribs. The Frenchman merely shrugged in return.

"It cannot be helped. Manners are lacking in an apocalypse, no? It would do no good to be offended."

"Such nobility," Gilbert huffed.

"No, he's simply too weak to fight," Antonio said brightly, looking over his shoulder. "I have not seen Lovino in some time now. You do not think he left, do you?"

"Oh, hush, you. Where would he go without his Spanish squeeze toy?" Francis laughed. "He would not leave before the fun started!"

The food came, and Arthur felt like he'd never felt so happy to see a simple breakfast in his entire life. The eggs weren't cooked very well, and the toast was more plain bread than anything else, but he was far too hungry to care. He tore into his meal ravenously, but not so much as Alfred, who was literally inhaling his hamburger.

"I take it you two are on the road?" Antonio laughed, leaning back in the booth. "Where are you headed in such a troubled time? You should stick around."

"No, I'm afraid we're on a bit of a mission," Arthur informed him as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "We will be heading out as soon as we're finished eating…" he glanced over to his companion, whose face was almost covered in ketchup. "_Alfred!_ Do _not_ eat like such an animal! It's disgusting!"

"Burrr iiiss sooowww gooooo!" the American replied, which translated into, "but it's so good!" The older man shook his head, grimacing at the primitive display.

"He is simply adorable!" Francis cooed, reaching over the table to wipe Alfred's mouth with a napkin. "You _must_ stay here! I would love to have the chance to see more of you two!"

"What is all this talk about sticking around? Is something special going to happen?" Arthur asked, snatching the napkin from Francis and shoving into the younger man's face a little more forcefully than necessary.

"Oh, no, mi amigo," Antonio grinned. "The _best_ thing is going to happen."

"…I'm afraid I'm at a loss."

"What do you think is the best part about the end of all mankind?" Francis asked. "Is it not obvious? Nothing matters anymore! You can have sex with anyone you would like to! The women do not care about pregnancy, and no one cares about diseases! Even monogamy becomes a little boring when morals disappear!"

Arthur's hand wrapped around Alfred's under the table. The American looked over to him questioningly as he felt himself being tugged.

"Yes, I do believe I understand where you're taking this, old chap," Arthur said as he stood. "The two of us really must be going though. We have an awfully long way to go and not much time to get there."

"But my drink!" Alfred whined, reaching for it with his free hand.

"Move, you bloody wanker!"

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around Alfred from behind, and hands began to enter his shirt. The American squeaked, his face turning bright red.

"Hey, bastardo, were you over here flirting with this one?" a deep voice asked. The sandy blonde looked slightly downwards to see a brunette with golden eyes staring over to Antonio.

"Ah, Lovino! Yes, I was looking at him. He is the kind you like, yes? About the same build?"

"He is good, yes. I was looking for you. I'm ready to start."

Arthur began furiously yanking at Alfred as the men started to undress, but the American seemed rooted to the spot.

"Wait a minute…is this a…?"

"_Yes_, you idiot! Come _on_!"

A fully naked woman ran past them, causing Alfred's face to engulf in flames as the Englishman all but dragged him toward the exit. Clothes began flying in all directions, and the chatter turned to moans and sensual whispers. They managed to reach the outside, and Arthur promptly led them to the car in a dead run.

"Get us the _hell_ out of here," he hissed. Alfred was in the driver's seat, his head down and his shoulders shaking. "Alfred? Are you alright?"

The American's head tilted back, and he busted into an uncontrollable laughter. The older man stared at him.

"We almost got involved in some crazy orgy! Hahahahaha, can you imagine?! Oh, man, I wish I'd live long enough to see my brother again, he'd never believe me! Seriously, that was freaking crazy!"

"Drive, you idiot, drive!"

Still laughing loudly, Alfred steered them away from the parking lot, casting a glance over his shoulder to the restaurant.

"You know, I think Francis wanted to introduce you to his Eiffel Tower."

Arthur punched him in the shoulder.

* * *

It was around the time night fell again that Arthur noticed they were swerving as they drove. He looked over to the younger man, who, indeed, was half asleep.

"Perhaps we should pull over since you're so keen on not letting me drive," he suggested.

"You don't know the way, and no, I'm fine. I could use some coffee though," Alfred yawned.

"I must admit, I'm afraid to stop anywhere else."

"Are you afraid you might get invaded by France?"

"I told you to shut up about that!"

Alfred giggled, and then used one hand to wipe under his eyes as he yawned widely.

"Man," he grumbled, "I'm not as good at staying up as I used to be. Stupid Kiku, making me get a normal sleep schedule."

"Kiku?" Arthur asked, keeping a close eye on the road. He was rather wary of flying into a ditch, since the driver seemed to be dozing off.

"Yeah, he was my roommate. I was going to school part time and working full time, and he was a full time rocket scientist in training. He came all the way from Japan, haha."

"That must have been quite the culture shock for him."

"Nah, he got used to it pretty quick. He used to always tell me Americans are too loud. I agree with him on that one. Yeah, we're loud. At least if you're loud, people hear you. Man, we got in this discussion once about how I should 'observe the mood and refrain from speaking'. He said I'd absorb so much more of the atmosphere if I just listened, so I tried it. I was super quiet, and I listened to everyone else. You wanna know what I learned?"

"Mmm," Arthur grunted.

"I learned if I shut up for too long, everything gets fucking boring. I know I'm not the center of the universe, but I amuse myself! That's gotta count for something! Besides, he got used to me before he got used to anyone else, because I was so friendly. He had the choice to change roommates, and he decided to keep me," Alfred laughed. "I hope he's safe. Well, safe for a few more days, at least."

"Did he go to his family?"

"Yeah. His parents live in Japan, but he had some relatives on the east coast. It's a long ass drive, but he might make it in time to spend a few hours there. You know, if their side of things hasn't already gone to hell and stuff… Hey! What's so funny?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious as he realized his passenger was laughing at him.

"You. I like how you ramble on and on. I ask one simple thing and you prattle on about whatever you can think of. It's funny," the older man chuckled.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I tend to babble on sometimes. I'll try to cool it."

"Don't be sorry. I think it's rather cute. It reminds me you're almost a decade younger than me."

Arthur was suddenly lurched forward as the car came to a halt. He hit his head on the dashboard, not quite enough to hurt like hell, but not painless enough to laugh off.

"Bullocks!" he hissed, thinking maybe something had run in the road to make Alfred stop so quickly. He looked over to the driver, who was staring at him with his mouth open. "_What_?"

"You're thirty-two?!" the American asked loudly, looking as though he were just told an impossible thing.

"…You made me hit my head for that?! I'm thirty-_one_, you twat!"

"I-I'm sorry, it's just… Wow! You don't look that old at _all!_ I was thinking you were a few years older, but not that much!"

"…Yes, thank you, I do like to be reminded of my age all the time," Arthur hissed scathingly.

"It's not that either," Alfred mumbled. "You…look really good to be that age, that's all I meant." The older man stared pointedly ahead for a few more minutes, before his attention was drawn to the car swerving again.

"Alfred, pull _over_," he said to the drifting driver. "If you insist on not letting me drive, at least get a few hours' sleep."

"Mmm, yeah, I think that might be a good idea," the American finally conceded, pulling over toward the side of the road. "And it's not that I'm insisting you can't drive. I just don't want to get lost in the middle of east Jesus nowhere."

"…What a charming expression."

The car came to a halt, and there was a clicking sound as the Alfred killed the engine. Sighing loudly, he reached down and pulled the lever to let the seat fall back. He shifted as he reached into the backseat, and pulled his jacket from under the seat to drape across himself.

"Are you gonna sleep too, Artie?" he asked.

"I suppose. I shan't have any fun watching you," the Englishman said. "What do I pull to lower my seat?"

"There's a little stick-thingy to the side. Just pull it up."

Arthur did just that, and fell back with a little yelp of surprise. Alfred's boisterous laughter filled the car once again as the older man tried to adjust himself, his emerald eyes narrowing dangerously at the youth.

"I'm _so_ glad I can make your Armageddon this much funnier."

"Don't be like that! It was funny!" Alfred managed to say. "Oh, hang on, I've got an idea." He reached up to turn the key slightly, and then pushed a button, making the moon roof open. The stars were bright, still looking cheerful despite their impending doom.

"Your idea was good for once," Arthur smirked. The American stuck his tongue out at him. "You need to take those glasses off to sleep. How will you be able to navigate if you break them in your sleep?"

"Heh, oh yeah. Thanks, mom." Alfred took them off, and placed them inside the glove compartment. He settled back under his jacket, and rolled over on his side to face the Briton. "Do you think if we look hard enough, we'd be able to see it?" he asked.

"See what?"

"The asteroid. It's close, right? Do you think we can see it?"

"I'd really rather not find it to be honest with you. It's almost like staring down the barrel of a gun, and that giant seventy-mile-wide bullet is coming much faster than you think," Arthur breathed, rolling over onto his own side so he could face the younger.

"I don't guess there's much else to do though," Alfred said. "If you were staring down the barrel of a gun, it means you're pretty much dead already. You might as well look at the killer."

"Unless there was something more interesting."

"Like what?"

"Whatever takes your mind away from the oncoming disaster. A happy place, a memory, thoughts of a loved one," Arthur explained, counting them off on his fingers. "I'd rather think of something beautiful."

"What do you think you'll remember?" Alfred asked him, propping himself on his elbow.

"I think…I shall remember this night. I've not seen stars this clearly for quite a while. I live in a major city, so the lights cancel them out. This back country road, this night, with you, Alfred. That will be my memory for doomsday." The American flushed, and gave him a goofy grin, before he settled back into his makeshift bed.

"I'm glad I found you, Artie," he said quietly. "I can't think of a better Armageddon buddy. We're gonna stay together till the end, promise?" He lifted his hand, stretching it toward his passenger. Arthur smiled at the childish sentiment, before he wrapped his hand around Alfred's, pulling it to his face and kissing the knuckles.

"You silly, silly fool," he murmured. "I am far too glad I found you as well."

* * *

There was the sound of birds from every angle, and they only seemed to be growing louder. Arthur grumbled to himself and pulled his trench coat further over his head, refusing to wake up yet. As soon as he moved in the slightest, he hissed at the sudden pin-prick sensations all over his body. It was _not_ boding well for him to sleep in such positions. He was extremely stiff, almost to the point of being in pain. Grumbling irritably, he peeked out of his jacket fortress.

Alfred was facing him, still fast asleep. The sandy blonde's mouth was half open, and he was breathing evenly with a serene expression on his face. Arthur smiled fondly at the sleeping youth, and reached his hand over to brush some stray locks away from his forehead. He couldn't help but wonder whether or not that strand of hair up top always stood straight up.

"Mmm…" Alfred mumbled, swatting at Arthur's hand. His brow furrowed as if he was confused about the contact, but his eyes remained closed nonetheless. The older man grinned, and continued to poke at his face more forcefully, feeling like a bully.

And then, out of nowhere, there was a slamming noise as someone jumped on the hood and pressed his face against the windshield. Arthur screamed, flailing about madly as the sandy blonde jolted awake.

"HEY! TORIS! THERE ARE, LIKE, PEOPLE IN HERE!" an unknown blonde man cried, his face pressed so far against the glass it was distorting his features.

"What the FUCK?!" Alfred yelped, looking around frantically to find the source of the noises that woke him up. He was blinking erratically as he tried to let his eyes focus, but he couldn't seem to get rid of the fuzziness. "I'm blind! Oh, God, _I'm blind!_"

"You need your glasses, you git," Arthur hissed, wrenching the glove compartment open to pull out said frames, before he placed them gently on the man's nose. Alfred blinked at him as if just realizing he was there, before he turned toward the stranger on his windshield.

"Oi! Lay off before you crack it!" the American shouted to the man. He sat all the way up and opened the door, and was immediately tackled to the ground by another male who was off to the side of the car.

"Alfred!" Arthur yelped, yanking his own door open to run to the aide of his companion. He found a brunette man with his hair to his shoulders on top of Alfred, hugging him fiercely.

"What the hell! Get off me, dude!"

"Oh, praise the stars! Not all of the stars, of course, I mean, to hell with that asteroid, but thank all the other ones! We're saved, Feliks!" The man said, looking up to the other on the hood of the car, his large blue eyes wide.

"I know. I, like, totally called it. They were all cozy in their car. Consider yourselves lucky! We were about to break the window and hotwire it," the blonde stranger said as he crawled off the hood. His hair was also longer, and he had narrow green eyes with a glint of mischief in them.

"I would have killed you," Alfred snarled as he freed himself from the death grip. "And why are you all happy to see us?"

"We had a car of our own, and we went to town to get supplies, but when we left the store, we found our car had been stolen!" the brunette cried. "We've been out here for two days!"

"Yeah, it was, like, tragic," the other said. "Toris said we were gonna die."

"Well, you _are_ technically going to," Arthur offered. "We all are in only four more days."

"Man, we're down to four?" Alfred asked, straightening up as he stood. "Where the hell did the time go?"

"That's just it!" Toris cried. "We have a shelter! A safe haven! One of our friend's boyfriend built it a long time ago, but he thought he was going to use it to save us from an attack by the Russians."

"Was it built during the Cold War?" Arthur asked interestedly.

"I think so. Our friends are a lot older than us, so it's possible. He said we were more than welcome to stay with them, so we tried to buy some of our own food but…we kind of already ate it all…"

"How far is this little shelter?"

"Artie, we don't have time for a side trip," Alfred whined, almost like a child, jealous that someone else was getting all the attention.

"I promise, it's not far! I'm certain Ludwig would let you stay with us!"

"Yeah, he's all noble and strong and stuff," the other stranger said as he walked over to stand beside them.

"Very well, we shall take you there. Come now, Alfred, don't make such a face. It's on the way, and I'd rather like to see a place dedicated to a historical event," Arthur said.

"Fine," the American grumbled, wrenching his door open and flopping down ungracefully. They each followed his lead, and were soon driving down the road again.

"I'm Toris, by the way, and this is Feliks. We cannot thank you enough," the brunette said, placing a hand on the shoulders of both front seat occupants.

"Yes, it's quite alright. I'm Arthur, and this little grumpy brat is Alfred."

"'M not a brat!"

"But he _is_ grumpy. You woke him up very suddenly, so I suppose he has every right to be."

"Sorry about that, bros," Feliks said. "We were just excited is all. You'll understand when you see the shelter. I'm like, totally sure it could survive anything. Ludwig said it would last through even an H-bomb, you know?"

"Are these friends of yours veterans from the military?" Arthur asked, turning around in his seat. "I know the Cold War wasn't technically a real war, but surely to have built such a shelter for the occasion, there must be some military background in there somewhere."

"No, no, dude, you got it wrong," Feliks answered easily. "See, Ludwig's dad was, like, a veteran from the Korean War. Ludwig didn't have any military experience himself. His lover, Feliciano, is the biggest pussy _ever_, and I like to think that's why the German-ator is so strong."

"He's German?" Alfred asked, looking into his mirror to meet the gaze from the yellow-blonde in the backseat. "And Feliciano sounds Italian. What a weird couple."

"No weirder than a young kid and a stuffy Brit," Feliks said easily, nudging Toris in the ribs.

"We're not a couple!" the American squeaked as he jerked his head back to glare at the two men. The sudden motion made their car swerve, and Alfred cursed himself as he hurriedly turned back around to straighten them back up. Arthur remained silent, smiling slightly to himself at the flustered look on his companion's face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. By the way, it's this dirt road ahead. Turn left at that mailbox."

As their car made the sharp turn, Arthur observed the scenery set out before him. They were very much in the countryside. The only decorations were trees as far as the eye could see, flecked with the occasional shrub or wild animal. He saw a raccoon hightail it into the woods when their car drove past. Even with everything going on, he still managed to appreciate such a sight. His city life had made it pretty impossible to enjoy such things.

"You've got such a goofy grin on your face," Alfred giggled, knocking against his shoulder gently with his free hand. Arthur turned to him with a slight smirk.

"I am actually quite happy right now," he said gently, catching the driver's hand with his own and giving it a slight squeeze. To his surprise, Alfred didn't try to pull his hand away.

"We're here! Oh, thank God, we're here!" Toris shrieked suddenly. The car stopped in front of a small cabin, and there was the click from the key turning to kill the engine. Toris and Feliks immediately jumped out, bee-lining for the front door. The other two occupants of the Mustang merely sat together, neither saying anything.

"Don't you wanna go in, Artie?" Alfred asked after a few moments.

"I do…but at the same time, I don't."

"Why is that?"

"Because, Alfred, we both know this shelter isn't going to stop the asteroid. I always find it difficult to stare such hope in the face. It's almost like explaining to a small child that Saint Nicholas doesn't exist. It's rather…disconcerting to say the least."

"Then why say anything?" Alfred grinned easily. "It's not like telling a kid Santa isn't real in this case. These guys aren't really going to have the opportunity to realize their shelter will fail. When the asteroid hits, it's gonna vaporize everything so quickly, I doubt they'll even notice, you know? And besides, in this case, I wouldn't have the heart to tell a kid Santa isn't real if they're gonna die in a few days anyway. Why let what little life they have left get them down?"

Arthur turned to him, giving him a faint smile.

"My word, Alfred, despite your grammar, you can be quite insightful when you try."

"Is 'insightful' a good thing?"

The Brit nodded, and squeezed his hand, which he only just realized he was still holding. Their hands released as they both opened their doors, and exited the car. Alfred walked around to the passenger side and stood beside Arthur, so close their shoulders were brushing.

"I know it's wrong to say so," the sandy blonde breathed quietly, "but Germans freak me the hell out."

"What?" Arthur laughed slightly, looking up at him. "Why on Earth would you say such a thing?"

"After that Gilbert guy at the bar, I'm all wary of them now. If there's a French dude here, we're gone."

Arthur laughed harder, and then reached down to grab the American's hand again.

"That, my dear git, we can agree on."

The front door opened, and they recognized their passengers from before, as well as two unknown men. Both of the strangers were much older, easily in their fifties or sixties. Arthur pulled Alfred up the stairs to meet them, and then stretched out his free hand.

"I am Arthur Kirkland," he greeted pleasantly. "This is Alfred Jones. We're pleased to make your acquaintance."

The tallest man of the group stepped forward, and shook the Briton's hand.

"I am Ludwig Beilschmidt," he said in a deep voice laced with a German accent. His sharp eyes were sky blue, and despite being hard, they seemed…rather soft as well. His face was worn, and his hair was startling white. He motioned behind him as he continued his introduction. "And this is my lover, Feliciano Vargas." The smaller of the two peeked over the German's shoulder, golden eyes wide.

"_Ciao!_" he greeted happily, running around his lover to shake both blonde's hands enthusiastically. "Toris and Feliks told us how you helped them! It was so kind of you!" Feliciano's hair was red, but with large flecks of gray here and there. The majority of his wrinkles seemed to be from smiling. He had a little curl to the side of his head, which reminded Arthur of Alfred's cowlick. Instantly, he liked the Italian.

"It was no trouble at all," the Briton assured them. "I must say, I'm rather intrigued by this shelter they said you have built."

"I am not sure we have room for any more," Ludwig informed them gruffly. Feliciano made a whimpering noise, placing his arms around the German's larger one.

"Don't say that! We can make room! The more, the merrier, right?" Ludwig looked sadly down at the smaller man.

"Oh, we shan't be needing to stay here," Arthur said. "We are pressed to go elsewhere. I would like to see it though, if it's no trouble."

"None at all," the German said, obviously relieved that they had no intentions of staying. "Follow me. It is around the back."

Arthur was still pulling Alfred along, but the American didn't seem to mind it. He was swinging their hands through the air happily, humming to himself as they went. The Briton couldn't help but feel a little inkling of happiness that the younger man felt so at ease with him, but he supposed a road trip, almost being raped, and the world ending had a tendency to bond people faster than usual. They traveled around the back of the cabin, and observed half-hidden double doors in the ground.

"Looks like a storm shelter," Alfred commented.

"That's what it used to be," Ludwig said. "My family lived here my whole life. This used to be a farm, but I never maintained it. I had no need for livestock." They walked to the doors, which the German pried open, and motioned for them to enter. It was horribly dark, and Arthur could feel the American moving even closer to him. There was a sudden click, and the lights turned on, streaming gold all over the walls.

The shelter was bigger than Arthur had assumed it would be, but it was still rather small. It was one large room with a little nook in the back, which the Briton assumed was a restroom. The open area had four pallets in the floor to sleep on, and shelves upon shelves of canned food. At the corner of the room was a small stove, and there was a bin beside it full of dishes. He couldn't help but admire the efficiency of a place so small.

"My father built it," Ludwig said. "Well, he got it started. I added a lot of things over the years, but it was originally a bomb shelter. My father did _not_ trust the Russians, so when the Red Scare came, he built this place. I remember him telling me if a nuclear bomb was dropped, it would lever the entire ground before it would level this place."

"Lucky for us, eh?" Feliks grinned, nudging Arthur in the ribs. "If it can survive an H-bomb, there's no way it can't survive an asteroid!"

"Yes, I am so happy we will be alright!" Toris added. "Now you see why we had to come back here so badly."

Arthur nodded, and then looked over to Feliciano, who was wearing a sad smile on his face.

"Would you two at least like to stay for dinner tonight?" he asked them. "In the main house, of course, not down here. I make a mean chicken cacciatore."

"We don't wanna impose," Alfred said quickly. "Plus, we're in a hurry, so-"

"We'd love to stay," Arthur interrupted, making the American bristle in response. Feliciano's face lit up.

"Molto buono!" he said cheerfully, running for the exit. "You two, come help me!" he added to Feliks and Toris.

Once left alone, Ludwig turned to the Brit with a grim smile.

"I thank you for that," he said genuinely. "He loves having people to cook for. It's always made him happy."

"I can see that," Arthur chuckled. "What is his relationship to those two, if you don't mind my asking."

"He used to be a professor. He taught Italian, and he always made friends with the students. It's hard not to be his friend, after all. Gott knows I never wanted to feel for him the way I do. He must have told them at some point that we had a shelter, and as soon as the announcement came, they were here," Ludwig sighed, leading them out of the shelter and back toward the house. "It's just as well though. He loves having the company."

The German opened the door, and the sound of music filled the air. He grimaced at the noise, but went inside nonetheless, telling his two guests to enter whenever they were ready. Once left alone, Arthur turned to the eerily quiet American.

"Are you quite alright?" he asked.

"Why are we staying here so long?" Alfred blurted out before Arthur could even finish his sentence. "You wanted to go find your mom, right? We only have a few days left and-!"

"And we're making good time. You need rest, Alfred, and we could both use the food. This could very well be our last home cooked meal. I wish you would stop worrying about the destination so much."

"But it's the whole reason you came here! And I promised to get you there! Artie, I don't want you to be disappointed!"

Arthur smiled at him wistfully, and cupped his face as he pulled their foreheads together, sandy blonde clashing with gold.

"You dear, sweet fool," he breathed, caressing Alfred's hair and kissing his nose. "I shan't be disappointed if we make it or not. Do you not understand? I am having fun simply by being with you."

"Artie, I-"

"Hey! You two need to, like, get in here! I don't feel like helping anymore!" Feliks's indignant voice said through the door. Arthur stepped away from the American, and then held his hand out, offering it to the youth.

"Come now, poppet. We can talk about this later."

The night was full of great food, and abundant laughter. Alfred got along famously with Feliciano, and soon the two were going back and forth telling humorous anecdotes, both occasionally speaking with their mouths full, and getting chastised. Feliks and Toris joined in, of course, and the four of them laughed so loudly it seemed to make the cabin shake. Arthur found himself smiling every time Alfred did, and he was filled with a strange emotion he couldn't quite place every time the American moved closer to him, constantly keeping some sort of contact.

After the meal was over, they were delighted when Feliciano offered the use of his shower. Arthur showered greedily, enjoying the hot water and the feeling of being _clean_ again. Alfred jumped in afterwards, and they were given fresh clothes. The American ended up wearing some of Ludwig's clothes, which were too big for him, but he managed. The T-shirt hung off his lean frame enough to reveal an entire shoulder, and Arthur couldn't help but find the image adorable as he helped him straighten his wardrobe. The Brit ended up wearing Feliciano's clothes, which were a little tight, but like Alfred, he managed. Ludwig's clothes would have swallowed him, as he did not have Alfred's lean muscle mass.

They were all sitting in the living room, having casual conversation after everyone was clean and full. Feliks and Toris ventured off to the guest room after bidding them a goodnight. Arthur hadn't intended on staying the night, but his mind changed when Alfred toppled over, his head landing in the Brit's lap. The younger man was fast asleep, curled on his side as he used Arthur's thigh as a pillow. Laughing lightly, the older man removed his glasses again, and sat them on the table.

"I say, he's always forgetting to remove his glasses. He'll break them one day."

"He's young," Feliciano whispered. "Younger than Feliks and Toris, even. It's so sad… He could have such potential if not for…"

"Yes, it is rather sad," Arthur cut him off, not liking the topic the conversation was headed towards. "But you two will be safe after all, right?"

Ludwig sighed tiredly, and folded his hands behind his head.

"You know as well as we do that this shelter will not stop such a thing," he said quietly. Feliciano's eyes became downcast, and they both wore the same bittersweet smile. Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"You know that? Then why are you…?"

"Feliks and Toris believe it will save them, and they're not as old as us," Feliciano explained. "We already know we're going to die, and we accept that. Ludwig and I have shared a long life together, and our years have been…wonderful… I always have those memories with me. But they are young, and do not know as much. Any comfort we can offer, we will."

"That is very noble of you," Arthur agreed. "Alfred knows there's no hope as well, but it's strange. I've never seen him gloomy on the subject, or on the verge of crying. If anything, I'd say he's treating the whole thing as an adventure. Perhaps it's youthful optimism, or youthful foolishness, but I haven't questioned it. He volunteered himself to help me for whatever reason, and I am…glad he's here with me."

"Yes, we could see that as soon as we saw you," Feliciano said with tears in his eyes. "You two are so perfect together! It is almost as if you were together for years."

"I wish we had years," Arthur admitted quietly, petting Alfred's hair as he spoke. "I haven't felt at all upset about the world ending, but… I am upset about Alfred. How I wish we could spend more time together. These short days will not be long enough."

"It will never be enough," Ludwig said. "No matter the time, no matter the circumstances, when the time comes to part, it will never have been long enough. That's just how it is."

Arthur looked down at the man in his lap, sleeping soundly as if he didn't have a care in the world. The Brit smiled down at him warmly.

"I suppose you're right."

* * *

The sound of people talking, and the sound of sizzling woke Arthur up the next day. He found he had shifted during the night, and was lying down on the couch with a blanket thrown over him. Alfred was nowhere to be seen. He sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes as he scanned the room.

"Buongiorno!" Feliciano said as he entered the room. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you. Have you seen Alfred?"

"Yes, he's making you breakfast! I was just helping him out. You two were cuddled so closely last night, it was adorable!"

Arthur blushed crimson, and hurriedly stood up to find the American and leave the knowing stare of the Italian. He found Alfred flipping eggs in the kitchen, whistling a cheerful tune.

"Yo, Artie!" he grinned. "It's early, you know. I figured you'd sleep in."

"I should say the same to you. Did you not sleep well?"

"Eh, I did for a bit. I woke up around dawn and couldn't go back to sleep, so when Feliciano came in here, I asked if I could use the kitchen. We're outta here as soon as we eat."

"Yes, that would be best. I am glad you slept on something other than a car seat last night."

"Haha, yeah, you were comfortable, Artie," Alfred said, giving him a crooked smile.

"I meant the couch!"

"I know what you meant! Geez, don't be so grumpy!"

Arthur 'hmphed' before he sat at the table, watching Alfred work.

"I don't suppose they have any tea," he sighed wistfully. "What I wouldn't give for a nice cup of tea…"

"Maybe we can ransack a store or something," Alfred suggested, turning off the heat as he poured the eggs on a plate. "I mean, I'm sure we wouldn't be the only ones."

"I'd rather not turn into a thief during my last days on Earth, and I suggest you not either."

Alfred placed the plate in front of him, and gave him an English muffin on the side.

"They had these, so I figured you'd like those more than toast," he explained. "I cooked them how you had them made at the diner, so I'm assuming they're right."

"Yes, thank you. I must say, I had no idea you could cook."

"I lived alone with a Japanese man who thought rice was a well-balanced meal. Yeah, I learned to cook. It was that or starve," the American laughed as he sat across from Arthur, nursing a cup of coffee.

"Are you not eating?" Arthur asked.

"Nah, I already ate. Feliciano made mine, but I sorta knew how you eat yours, so…I asked if I could do it." A faint blush was present across his cheeks, but he hurriedly hid it by drinking more coffee. The Brit chuckled to himself as he began eating.

"Ah, do you two really have to leave so soon?" Feliciano asked as he journeyed back into the kitchen. "I know Toris and Feliks would like to see you again before you go, and Ludwig too, even though he'd never say it! You can stay here as long as you like!"

"Dude, this is like…telling a puppy you're leaving…" Alfred muttered to Arthur, before taking another abnormally long sip of his coffee.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Vargas, but we have to be going. Thank you again for your hospitality. Would you like for us to help you clean the dishes we messed up?" the Brit asked, wiping his mouth and pushing his chair under the table as he stood.

"No, no, I can do it…" Feliciano sighed, moving toward them. Alfred stood up as well, and was promptly hugged around the middle by the redhead.

"Uh…hey…? You okay?" he asked the older man uncertainly. The Italian nodded, and then threw himself at Arthur in the same way. The Briton blinked in surprise, but hugged him back nonetheless.

"Take care of each other," Feliciano whispered. "Three days left. Make them count."

Arthur shivered at the grim reminder, but he nodded, promising he would try. When the Italian pulled away, he had tears streaming down his face, and he tried to wipe them away and give them a friendly smile.

"This is goodbye, I suppose," Arthur said, idly wondering why it felt like saying farewell to someone he had known his whole life as opposed to someone he had only just met. Feliciano whimpered, and shook his head profusely.

"No! Do not say that! I hate goodbyes! We will say…'see you later'. That sounds better to me."

"See you later, then."

And just like that, they were gone.

* * *

Arthur watched the passing street signs with interest, illuminated by headlights, and tried to think where they were. They were growing closer and closer to the state line, and soon would be close to the address from the envelope.

"How much longer until we pass the state line?" he asked the driver.

"Eh, about an hour? We should be at there before daybreak. Lucky for us, we woke up early," Alfred responded, idly flipping through the radio stations. Most of them were static, but they both paused as they heard a voice.

_"And if you're just tuning in, the asteroid is drawing closer than previously anticipated. At this rate, it will arrive a day early, and make impact shortly after midnight tomorrow night. Is that what they're saying, Tom?"_

_ "Yes… Yes, that's what the president just said. NASA has confirmed that asteroid Minerva will hit after midnight tomorrow night. The sudden schedule change is due to a burst of speed, believed to be caused by a shift in the asteroid's path. Minerva has changed her course three times in the past few months, but it doesn't look like she will be shifting again. We repeat, Minerva will hit shortly after-"_

Alfred shut off the radio, a grim look on his face.

"We just lost an entire day…"

Arthur nodded, at a loss for what to say. He looked over to his driver who was shaking so badly their car was swerving.

"Alfred? Alfred, stop the car!"

They came to a sudden halt, caused by the American slamming on the brakes. Arthur flew forward, but stopped himself from slamming into the dashboard by propping himself on his arms. He reached over and placed the car in park as he moved toward the younger male.

"It's alright! Alfred, look at me! Calm down, alright?"

"It's not FAIR!" the American screamed suddenly, slamming his hands on the steering wheel so the Mustang's horn honked. "You're only gonna be with your mom for a few hours now! I thought… I mean, I know it's only a day, but that's twenty-four goddamn hours we just lost! It's not fucking FAIR!"

"I said it's fine! Alfred, please get a hold of yourself! It's fine."

The American turned his head as if to argue, but Arthur acted quickly, and leaned over the glove box to slam their mouths together. Alfred hissed at the sudden contact, his brows furrowing as if from confusion, but he didn't try to pull away. The Briton sighed blissfully, tugging Alfred slightly to invite him to move closer, which the younger man gladly obliged to. He crawled over the barrier to straddle the older man, keeping their mouths locked as closely together as he possibly could.

"Ah, Arthur…_Arthur_…" Alfred groaned, pulling away to stare into the viridian eyes of the Brit. "What are we doing?"

"Don't think, love. Just _feel_," Arthur instructed, reaching down to pull the lever that sent the seat flying backwards and left Alfred sprawled on top of him. Their breaths increased as their hands started roaming, mapping out each other's bodies as if they were nations about to claim new territory. Alfred was _his_, he decided as their clothes began to litter the floorboards. He would claim him as his own, for now, and forever, or however long the American wanted it. He would give him everything he could for as long as he could. There was no turning back now.

And when their bodies met, it was a flash of wondrous colors and feelings the likes of which they had never seen or felt before. Here, in the passenger seat of Alfred's Mustang, they took turns claiming each other, mapping each other, each time making something beautiful as if to stare death in the face with life. They were all, and they were as one, professing their passions to each other as many times as they could before exhaustion took them, draining their consciousness from reality, but not away from each other.

Yes, if they were to die, that would be fine, Arthur decided as he wiped the sweat from Alfred's brow and kissed him everywhere he could reach. Because here, they were perfect, beautiful, and _complete_ for the first time in their lives, and that was all that mattered. Death would be the high cost of living, and such happiness could not come without consequence, as every good turn deserved another. If their lives were what they would have to pay, so be it.

Arthur Kirkland was happy for the first time in his life, and he could die that way, he decided.

* * *

"Artie? Artie!" the American's voice invaded his brain, and made him groan as he rolled over in his seat to face the youth.

"Mmm?" he mumbled, cracking a satiated emerald eye open to observe the driver, who was grinning sheepishly at him.

"We're here."

Arthur sat up quickly, looking around in confusion. He was still stripped down to his boxers, covered only by his trench coat and Alfred's leather bomber jacket. Indeed, they were parked in front of a large house, and were nowhere near the roadside where they had made love the night before.

"How long was I out? Do you have the time?" he asked hurriedly as he started throwing on his clothes.

"It's a little after noon, I think. I woke up a few hours ago, and I knew we weren't far. Are…you ready to see your mom?"

Arthur looked up at him after he buttoned up his shirt, and stroked his face gently.

"My dearest Alfred, you are far too kind to me."

"'M only returning the favor," the American said, blushing despite all their contact the night before. "I wanted to keep my promise to you."

"I told you it wasn't important anymore. I thank you for bringing me here, but it's not going to be the highlight of my journey."

"C'mon, let's go inside before you get so cheesy Francis decides to come eat you with his wine."

They stepped out of the car, and Arthur smiled broadly as the younger man ran over to him from the other side of the car just to be as close to him as possible. Their hands wrapped together as they traveled to the front door, crossing the lawn together. This time, he knocked as soon as they reached the door.

No answer.

He tried again, this time more urgently, but to no avail. There was still no answer. The house was empty. Arthur dropped his hand to his side as his head hung low, his shoulders beginning to tremble.

"Artie?" Alfred asked warily, shaking him slightly. "It's alright! Maybe she's in the back somewhere and can't hear you?"

Then, Arthur threw his head back, and laughed louder than Alfred had ever heard him laugh before. It was boisterous, and exuberant, and the younger man could only marvel at him while he waited for a logical response.

"Oh, this is too rich!" Arthur managed as he continued to chuckle. "We came all this way to be greeted by an empty house!"

"Uh…are you okay?"

"Yes, my love, I am perfectly fine. I do believe I finally understand what they meant when people said life is about the journey and not the destination. It's ludicrous to think she would be here anyway. I honestly don't know what I was thinking, traveling all the way here."

"You're…still glad you came, right?" Alfred asked fearfully. The Briton looked up at him.

"Of course I am. It brought me to you." The sandy blonde blushed a beautiful crimson. "Now, poppet, do you think you can break the door down?"

Alfred nodded, and then gave the wooden frame a sharp kick, knocking it away from its hinges to land with a thud on the hardwood. The two stepped inside, and looked around as they journeyed throughout the front room. The American whistled.

"Man! Whoever lived here must've been _loaded!_" he said gleefully. "This place is crazy!"

"Yes, I believe Mother had a wealthy cousin who lived in the states. I daresay this might be her house. I actually do not know too much about my mother's side of the family. I never bothered to learn."

"This would've been my dream house!" Alfred said jovially. "If there was a burger joint around the back, I'd be set!" He turned to the older man, who grinned at him happily.

"Ridiculous fool," he said good-naturedly, holding his arms open for the American, who took the invitation enthusiastically. Alfred leaned forward and kissed him once, and then again for good measure before he pulled away.

"I'm sorry she's gone, Artie," he sighed. "Do you have any idea where she went?"

"Honestly? By this point, I do not care. I assume she went somewhere with her cousin, perhaps to another shelter somewhere, or maybe she went straight to Hell. It bothers me not, for I've had time to think about it the last few days, and… I don't need the closure anymore."

"You don't? Why?"

"Because, Alfred, it doesn't matter. I came here because I wanted to be happy, and not talking to her for so long haunted me for years. It was a silly whim, really, to think I could come here and she would invite me in with open arms. She's a stranger to me."

"Artie…"

"But it's fine," the Brit continued. "As I said, I don't need that closure anymore, because I have you. And I do believe these past few days with you have been…the happiest I have been in my entire life. I do not wish to be with anyone else but you."

Alfred smiled at him warmly, and caught his lips in another kiss.

"I knew you'd warm up to me!" he grinned.

"I believe I can think of other ways we can warm up," Arthur purred, hooking his fingers in the man's belt loops.

"Oh? And how is that?"

Arthur gave him a mischievous grin, and then pulled him upstairs, toward the bedrooms.

* * *

The day passed slowly, but still much too quickly, and the two never left each other for even a moment. Their talking was interrupted only by love-making, and the occasional story. Alfred was eager to learn everything about Arthur, and asked question after question. They ventured downstairs, and the American laughed as he watched the Englishman try to cook him dinner. It ended up being a burnt mass that couldn't be saved, but Alfred ate a bite anyway to make the older man happy.

Afterwards, Arthur found an old record player, and he smiled at the records he uncovered. He placed one under the needle, and held his hand out as music filled the house. Alfred smiled at him and took it, standing up and leaning over to lean his head on the older man's shoulder.

"Where did you learn to dance?" he asked as he was twirled.

"School. I went to a boarding school, and we had formal occasions often. I never really liked dancing though. It's not fun unless you actually _like_ your partner," Arthur laughed.

"Ah, you should be having tons of fun now then!" Alfred said cheekily.

"You might be right."

They danced on as the record played, and Alfred tried his hand at leading. Arthur merely laughed at him as he stumbled over his own feet and fell in the floor. Suddenly, the record froze as the power flickered, and soon they were left in complete darkness. The American gasped, and clutched at Arthur, who helped him to his feet.

"I believe I saw candles in the bedroom," he told the younger man, trying to keep him calm. "Do you want to go in there?"

"Yeah, I… Have you been keeping track of the time? I have no idea how late it is…"

"Yes, Alfred. It's close to midnight."

The grip on his hand tightened, and he pulled the American upstairs. The master bedroom was ridiculously huge, and hard to navigate around. The Briton eventually found the candles, and managed to light a few. He looked around for Alfred, but found him outside on the balcony, looking up at the sky.

"Oh, Arthur," he breathed. "I think I can see it…"

"I told you not to look for it," the older man said as he joined him outside, but refused to look up. "I have no desire whatsoever to see it."

Alfred turned his gaze back to him, and nodded, grabbing his hands and allowing himself to be pulled inside. They sat on the bed and faced each other, each trying to think of what to say.

"You never told me all of the stories about yourself, my love," Arthur said quietly, stroking his face. "We have time. Tell me everything about you. What of your brother? You've not said much about him."

"Oh, Mattie was my best friend," Alfred said. "We used to do everything together. We're twins, but people can always tell us apart. He's a lot more timid than me, and was super nice to everyone. I miss him a lot sometimes, but I don't…guess it matters now…" His azure eyes began to fill with tears, and Arthur reached up to remove his glasses.

"Look at me, poppet, only at me. You needn't see anything else. Keep talking."

"I love you, Arthur," the American said hurriedly. "I dunno why, but I just couldn't bear the thought of being split up, even for a second. I'm sorry if I smothered you."

"No, you silly fool. I love you as well."

The windows began to shake as a sonic boom was heard, growing louder in the distance. Alfred yelped, and moved closer to the Brit.

"Arthur, Arthu-"

"Shh, I'm here."

"Why couldn't I have gone to London for a vacation or something? I wish I had met you forever ago. I wish we had more time together! We could've figured it out."

"No, we mustn't wish for such things. We're together now, and that's all that matters. We might not have found each other as we have if the world wasn't ending. We might have met, yes, and the attraction would have been there, but the long distance would have proven to be too much. I couldn't leave my job if we weren't in the circumstances we're in now, and you would have been in school. No, my dearest Alfred, we are fine as we are, and I am so very…happy to be here with you."

Another bang sounded outside, and the sky began to grow lighter as the house shook violently.

"It's not enough time!" the sandy blonde sobbed.

"It never would have been."

"Are you thinking of the stars we saw on that first night?" Alfred asked frantically, trying to calm himself as best as he could as the world destroyed itself around them.

"No. I admit, I am not thinking of anything right now. I am simply here, with you, marveling at how lucky I am."

"I love you," Alfred said again, hugging him around the neck. "Don't let go of me, okay? Please, don't let go."

"I promise I won't. I can't release my Armageddon buddy."

The sandy blonde snapped back to look him in the eye, his face holding a breathtaking smile. Pictures began to fall off the walls as the foundation shook, and the two occupants gripped each other as tightly as they could. Their lips met in a farewell kiss, or perhaps a 'see you later' kiss, to pay tribute to Feliciano Vargas. The lights grew brighter and brighter still, and the world shook violently around them. They whispered sweet nothings repeatedly, refusing to look anywhere but into each other's eyes until everything grew silent and then-

.

.

.

* * *

_ Sachi: This turned into a MONSTER to write. Longest one-shot ever! If you haven't seen the movie, _Seeking a Friend for the End of the World_ I highly suggest it. I started this story a week ago, haha, and I'm just now finishing it, but it was worth it! Regular updates on other stories will resume soon enough!_

_ Notes: Demure- Characterized by shyness and modesty; reserved._

_ Dulcet: Pleasant or agreeable to the eyes or the feelings; soothing._

_ Both words were borrowed from the list of _The 100 Most Beautiful Words in English_ by Robert Beard. Thanks for reading, and review for love! _


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